father figure
by xoVanilla-Bean
Summary: It really sucks being so attached to him. Ellie&Joel drabbles.
1. Chapter 1

a/n; when i finished the game, my life felt empty. hence, fanfiction.

**father figure.**

* * *

Ellie sits on the post in the northernmost section of Jackson. It's her post, now, ever since she displayed her skills with her hunting rifle against a pack of runners. The electricity was down that day, and the fence was battered in three places, upheaved in two. It took three weeks to fix and it took another week for the heavy sense of security to wrap its way back over the entire settlement. That's usually how the story went. Everyone was used to it, but there was never any harm in being cautious.

So Ellie sits at the post when it's her turn and when it isn't. Today was hers, from noon to dinner. The sun is waning in the west, gilding every tree in the Wyoming countryside. The river near the dam winks at her through the foliage. If there is one thing Ellie can say, it's that the scenery never leaves the eyes wanting.

She's been here so many times; one more inch the sun has to travel before the dinner bell rings. She'll be relieved by John, who'll have already eaten, then she'll hand him the rifle and be on her way.

"Ellie?"

She starts. Had the dinner bell rang?

"Oh, John. Time already?"

"Yeah," he grins, climbing up the ladder. "Elk, today. It's good eatin', I tell ya." He pats his belly.

Ellie grips the rifle closer to her chest.

"I think I'll stay here. I'm not hungry."

"Ellie, you need to go eat."

"I'll eat when I'm hungry, John."

"Don't be like this, kiddo."

"Don't fucking call me – you know, never mind. Just go be with your family tonight."

"Ellie, I can't let you take the night shift."

"Why the hell not?"

"Just give me the gun, and…" He reaches for her and she backs up to the rail, glaring.

"Go home, John."

He stares at her for a few passing moments. "I'll need to report to Maria."

"She won't care."

"Yes, she will. She's worried, too."

This has got to be the longest conversation she's had with him. It doesn't help his cause with the tone of the talking.

"Then I guess she won't bother me!"

John sighs. "Fine. You win. Radio someone when you have a hard time keeping awake."

He glances back at her once he jumps off the ladder, and he shakes his head. He mutters, "Teenagers," before he's out of earshot.

Ellie turns back to the view, the sun finally descending underneath the line of the earth. John always arrived with a gripe about never eating with his children, never getting to watch the night's movie with them. Of all days, he fought her to stay. Well, at least his son and daughter will get to spend a night with both parents.

* * *

"Ellie?"

The voice crawls through the speaker on her radio. "Ellie, are you okay, sweetie?"

Ellie hits her head on the metal pole of the railing. She curses before sitting up hurriedly, hand feeling around her hip. She snatches the device and hits the button.

"Fine, Maria."

"You don't have to stay up there, Elle."

She wipes the sleep from her eyes.

"I want to."

There is a long bout of silence on her end.

"I'll bring you leftovers."

At least Maria won't kick her off the platform.

"Okay."

* * *

Morning comes. She's dead on her feet. It's been a long few days, and as many long days as she's had, it seems she can't get used to them. The sun hits her eyes like a match, forcing her to squint. The scenery is the same as it was the day before. She glances around behind her, to her left and right. There never sees to be anything she can shoot these days. Nothing of interest, either. There aren't any rustling in the leaves or signs in between trees. Monotonous and hopeless. Even a bird would help. Anything.

There's nothing.

Maria must call off the morning watch, because she brings her a small portion of breakfast. They don't say much, because they've already been over everything, and Ellie doesn't feel like talking about it anymore. Maria's nice, motherly even, and a friend when she feels friendless. But waiting alone is lighter than with another. An acquired taste, that's for sure. Ellie's not sure when she got used to it, but now that she has, she's nearly forgotten how to deal with others when anticipating well, maybe nothing, now. She's tried before, but there were always too many families around for her to stand it. The only things she could do to avoid them was to stay in her room and read books or hang out at her post. Maria was great, and so were the few other teens she found, but distractions had made her feel guilty. And she fucking hated guilt.

Her eyes become unfocused on a partition of trees. She leans against her rifle, her mind wandering off into a daze.

"Yo, Ellie. Earth to Ellie. You still up there or what?"

Her eyes come back into focus on the land.

"Mike?" she calls down. He smiles at her.

"Been missing you at the lunch table. When you gonna show up?"

"Maybe when you get less annoying."

"Oh, come on, I'm not a dick like Rob."

"Nah, not a dick." She shifts her back on the rail, finding a comfortable spot. "An asshole."

"I didn't have to come and check on you, ya know."

"No," she says. "You didn't."

"Elle," he starts slowly. "Two weeks really isn't that long a time, if you think about it."

Ellie looks out to the mountains.

"Come hang out with me," he says. "We can wrangle Rob away from the stables and Bobby from the cattle range. We can practice shooting targets or even go on a hunt."

"Maybe tomorrow."

"Ellie…"

"Just fuck off, Mike. I'll find you later."

"Sorry for caring. Jesus," he scoffs, then walks away. "I'm gonna get you fucking down here eventually, girl."

"Sure," she mumbles. He never said fuck or swore so much before he met her. It's kind of annoying he picked up the habit.

She sees figures move in the early afternoon. She'd know their movements anywhere. She places the rifle's scope to her eye, sharpening the faces. Tommy's horse limps along, and they're both carrying two large, stuffed sacks off the backs of the saddles. Indicates they found what they fucking wanted. She gives serious thought to shooting a round off to their right, to piss them off and scare the horses. It's be hilarious to watch Joel slip off his mount. Fucker deserves it.

As they near, Ellie slides down the ladder. She already hears the wave of excitement running through the dirt paths and groups of people. A few gallop past her toward the north entrance. "Ellie," one says, nudging her with delight. "Joel and Tommy finally made it back!" They don't wait around to notice she doesn't follow.

Her eyes find Mike in the miniature throng of moving people, eventually. He laughs when he catches sight of her marching to him.

"Shoulda known Joel's the only one to get you off that goddamn –"

"Whatever," she says. "Still wanna go shoot bottles?"

"Uh…yeah," he answers. "But don't you wanna greet them?"

"Later," she eyes her pistol. "Right now I wanna go shoot stuff. I spent too much time on that damn post without getting to use any bullets."

Mike's easy to persuade. Probably because he gets incredibly attached to anyone he decides to like. "Alrighty," he says. "If you say so."

The shooting range is near the southern entrance. They've set it up to where the walls are cushioned and muffle noise, so bandits, hunters, and infected can't be alerted. There is no one around. They're all across the settlement, and the silence is sweet.

She pulls out her pistol and unleashes on the bottles that have been left up since the last round.

"Damn!" Mike exclaims. "Remind me to get better than you."

"Pft." She reloads. "You never will."

"Those are some confident words for a girl."

"Because I'm a girl I'm not allowed to be confident?"

He shrugs. "It _is_ kind of embarrassing being owned by you all the time. Words are all I got."

"Well, you need to get better at them, because I'm owning you with those, too."

"You wish. Here, I'll bet you on the next runner ambush I can kill twice as many of the fuckers than you."

Ellie rolls her eyes. "Please. There is no way."

"There totally is a way."

"How 'bout we stop measuring dicks and shoot?"

She finishes setting up more of the bottles. Just a few more rounds and her ammo stash would be bone dry.

"My dick will always be bigger than yours."

She shoots two bullets before looking at him. "Shut up and shoot."

He shuffles on his feet, suddenly. He doesn't pull out his gun for a while, but Ellie ignores his idle stance. When she finishes her second round, Mike says, "You know, maybe you should go see Joel."

She heaves in frustration. "You don't have to worry about that, Mike. I'll go see Joel when I want to see Joel. Right now there is no one I want to see less."

"Oh…" Mike shifts. "Well, uh…I guess you'll be around more, uh, often, right? And, uh…"

His eyes are gliding to the doorway and back, and Ellie wishes Mike actually had balls to his name. No one can stand straight under Joel's stare for long.

"Damn it, Mike. Just leave."

Mike hesitates, but he heeds her words and scurries out. She doesn't turn around.

"What do you want?"

"To see you, 's all."

"Well, you've seen me."

He sighs tiredly behind her. "We found the abandoned settlement. We got enough medicine to last a year, if we stretch it."

"Oh, awesome." She throws up her hands. "All of us are allowed to get sick! Finally! I always wondered what a sore throat felt like."

"Ellie…"

"What, Joel?" She spins around, and she gets an eyeful of him – his beard and his ratty flannel shirt. She feels sick. She sees dried blood mixing with the plaid. He gazes at her. "Fucking _what_?"

"It was easier getting there than back."

"Really? I didn't notice."

His frown deepens. "I know I promised…"

"I learned a long time ago your promises don't mean shit."

One thing she can count on is how quick he is to anger. He always has been. It's his most consistent trait, along with his selfishness. But for some reason, her words don't seem to bother him.

"They usually don't. You know that better than Tommy, I reckon."

He doesn't even try to justify himself. She shakes her head. "Three fucking days. Not fifteen."

"I missed you, too, kiddo."

He had kissed her on top of her head before he left. He'd never done it before then. She doesn't answer him.

"I'll leave you to it, then," he says, gesturing toward the bottles. "Don't come beggin' for bullets when you run out, 'cause I ain't got any left to spare."

Like hell. He always caves when she asks. "Yeah, sure."

He leaves her, but her ears are full of resounding bullets and broken bottles.

* * *

She almost goes back to her post for the night shift, out of spite.

"Look who decided to eat amongst the living!" Rob hollers when he sees her. She decided instead to sit at another table. Joel is in clear eyeshot, but she doesn't care.

"Shut up, Robbie," she says, dropping her tray on the table. She stuffs a chunk of meatloaf in her mouth.

Mike grins across from her. "Good to see your bad mood hasn't left at _all_."

"Go to hell."

"I'm just teasing you."

She ignores him.

"So I take it you forgave Joel for surviving?"

"Oh, is that what it is?" Rob laughs.

"Shut the fuck up, Mike. You've got no room to talk when you can't even take his stare for five seconds."

"Hey!" he says defensively. "That's not fair. He scares the shit out of me!"

"Out of everyone," Rob corrects.

"You're all pussies."

"Excuse me, I'm an asshole."

"I thought_ I_ was an asshole."

"According to Ellie, I think you're more a dick."

Rob snorts.

Ellie glances up and accidentally catches Joel's eye. She looks away.

"Why don't you just tell him you're glad he's back?" Mike asks. "Am I missing some kind of girl psychology here?"

"Nah, dude, you're missing Ellie psychology."

"Oh, yeah. Forgot we labeled her genderless."

"How could you forget? She has a dick and boobs. She's a contradiction."

They're both older than her, and they're both pointless. She suddenly wishes Bobby was joining them. At least he would actually talk about things with more substance. Or Maria. But she's busy smiling with Tommy. Joel is sitting with them, too, but he always manages to look lonely when surrounded by people.

"Were you there when Tommy talked about the raid? He said two rival groups of hunters and a pack of runners and bloaters. They took out the bloaters and led half the hunters into the runners."

"Did that scare the other hunters off?"

"O' course not. Hunters think they're immortal or some shit, just because they've lived out there so long. No, Tommy and Joel had to lead them off on another course so they couldn't come here and attack. But then they ended up killing them, anyway."

"Jesus, that's badass."

"So fucking epic, right? You think we'll ever get to do something like that and do it as good as Joel and Tommy?"

"Psh, doubt it. They're veterans. They know what the world was like before _and_ after, and they've adapted into the scariest sons of bitches around. I'm just glad we have them on our side, in our camp."

"Slow down, Mikey boy, your man crush is showing."

Mike only shakes his head. "I'm not ashamed. I'm just glad I'm not either of their kids. Can you imagine the pressure?"

They both look pointedly at Ellie.

"Geez, yeah. Ellie, what's it like?"

"Ellie?"

She stirs at the few peas on her plate. She jolts at one of Rob's elbows.

"Huh?"

"Man, Ellie, where'd you go?" Rob asks laughingly. "You're completely zoning out."

She keeps doing that, and she doesn't even do it intentionally.

"Uh, yeah. What were y'all saying?"

"Being Joel's kid. What's it like?" Mike says.

The question irks her.

"I'm not his kid."

Mike and Rob share a look.

"Yeah, you are," Mike objects.

"You traveled the country together. You came here together, I just assumed…"

"We're not related," she hears herself say. "We came together by circumstance."

"Well, you guys sure act the part. And Joel…" Rob's intonation makes her eyes narrow.

"Joel, what?"

Rob lifts a shoulder. "I've heard him call you _baby girl._ Thought that meant something."

_Baby girl,_ she thinks. _He hasn't called me that in weeks._ Or, well, maybe fifteen days. It's hard to tell when she's so used to hearing it.

"He just matters. Like a father figure, I guess."

"Definitely," Mike says. "I'd bet my shotgun if anyone messed with you, Joel'd break all their bones, slowly, while they're tied to a chair. Screaming."

"It's like it doesn't even matter that he's old. I wonder what he was like when he was younger."

She tunes them out again. She looks up to see Joel standing and moving out of the hall.

"Ellie, where you goin'?"

"None of your business," she tells them, following the trail Joel leaves behind.

* * *

She finds him sitting in the chair right outside their house doorway. It would be on a porch if they had the necessary ingredients to make one.

His eyes are closed, but he does not look peaceful. She walks up to him slowly and places a hand on his arm.

"Hey."

His eyes open alert and ready. The tension in him dwindles when he sees her.

"Baby girl," he sighs.

_Baby girl,_ she thinks.

"You should have let me fucking go with you."

His eyes close again, and he rubs at them with his forefinger and his thumb.

"We've been over this, Ellie."

"Before, we went over it. And I thought, oh sure, three days max, of course they'll be fine. Then when you didn't show, I thought, oh, four, that's cool."

"We are fine. We're okay."

"No. I should've gone. I'm good at raids. _We're_ good at them. I have so much experience, and –"

"There's nothing you can say that'll change my mind, Ellie."

She bites her cheek. "I waited, Joel. I waited a real fucking long time. If you want me to stop bringing up this argument, you better come back when you tell me you're going to come back."

Joel holds a hand out. "Look, now, I know I scared you for a while, but you've gotta trust me when –"

"I do trust you, Joel! And all it's been good for is making me worry." She points. "Look at your shirt. That blood could be yours, instead."

"It could've been," he says. He moves in his chair, leaning forward. He reaches for one of her hands and takes it in his own. "But you know I'd never leave you. There's nothing I couldn't do any –"

She pulls out of his hand to wrap her arms around his neck. "Every time you say that makes it harder."

He's caught off guard. She doesn't instigate hugs often.

"I can't risk you out there, anymore. I've done it enough."

"Then how can you risk yourself?"

"Easy."

"Fucking…shit. Joel."

"Ellie."

"I hate you."

He pulls away. "C'mon, baby girl. Let's go watch the movie they're showin'."

"Can we just stay here?" she says, not able to help herself. "You can tell me about all the infected you killed. I heard something about bloaters. And you know how much I love bloaters."

He finally cracks a smile for her. "Alright. Let's go talk about bloaters."

They move to the couch they shoved into their house months ago. She listens to his voice more than his words, and she ends up falling asleep against his shoulder halfway through the story. He brushes the bangs off her forehead before kissing the top of her head a second time. Then he closes his eyes, and he falls asleep with her.


	2. Chapter 2

a/n; Quick note. I realize the 'lesson' in here was/is already in the game, but much more subtle. All I wanted was to expand, because Ellie is still a fourteen year old girl, and they've both grown since then, in some capacity. Also, influenced by The Civil Wars. They are flawless. _Flawless._

* * *

"Okay, so the strings are E, A, D…G, B, and E again."

"That's right."

"And the squares are called frets…" she taps on the strings, then moves her hand along the neck. "These are the tuners, the headstock, and this is the…nut?"

"You got it."

"Why is it called a nut? It's just a line of wood."

"It's been called that for as long as I remember."

"So weird."

He had taught her the basics a day ago. They hadn't had a lot of time to get very far along, but Joel seemed excited – maybe not excited. Excited is too strong a word for him. He was lighter, somehow. His eyes aged backward when he explained the merits of melodies in music and how chords could turn into stories.

"Is that why you wanted to be a singer?" she asked. "To share stories?"

"Some," he said. "Mostly, I wanted to star in posters on girls bedroom walls."

"You're kidding."

He only smiled, then he left the topic cold and continued onto scales. He started to describe whole and half steps before he was needed elsewhere in the camp.

Ellie's still not sure if he was being sarcastic.

"Whole steps are every two frets…half steps are one."

"That's good, Ellie." He reaches for the instrument. "I'll play you some notes and show you the right way to hold it." He shifts and places the curve of the body on his thigh. The fingers of his left curl around the neck while his right hovers over the bridge.

"Alright, since the sixth string is E, the first fret plays an F." He plucks. "Then F sharp. Then G."

"Wait a sec," she stops him. "So the first fret is actually a whole step? But it's only one fret."

"Its how it's always been. Don't think too hard 'bout it, Ellie."

She makes a noise. "Okay, so the next note is A?"

"G sharp," he says, playing it. "Then A."

"But you said notes ended on G and started again on A!"

"They do, but G has a sharp note."

"Why can't they name sharps and flats different letters? Like, G sharp can be H, and…oh, wait, that would be way too confusing."

Joel ends up writing down the order of notes, specifically labeling the notes that didn't have either sharps or flats, when she was having a hard time agreeing with the rules.

"You mean, B sharp doesn't exist?"

"No."

"Why not? What the hell, I thought every note had a sharp and a flat."

"It's just one of those rules you have to get used to. Once you start playin' it'll make more sense."

"Says you. The, I've-been-playing-since-your-age, old man."

"Okay, I'm not that old," he says, but he laughs lightly. "And I'm not that good, Ellie. I only know two scales, but I can teach you some chords and a few songs."

"Can't you just start teaching me songs, now?"

"You gotta know notes, first. It'll make it a lot less confusing in the long run."

"Ugh," she groans aloud. "I hate rules."

"And if you wanna get anywhere with this, you've gotta spend some time practicing."

"Ugh," she groans louder. "Not _discipline_. Anything but _that."_

He shakes his head at her. "I'll teach you the scales I know, and we won't move on until you can play 'em without thinking about 'em. It'll get your fingers used to moving, too."

"What if I get them right off the bat? Will you teach me chords?"

"Trust me," he says. "You won't get them."

"Gee, thanks for the vote of confidence."

He's right. She doesn't get them. They take her near to an hour before all the notes transition into each other cleanly. She runs to the armory to show him, where he's fixing up the broken and elderly firearms. Joel's handy at bringing them back to life.

"Tomorrow," he answers her excitement, much to her sudden objections. "Sleep on it. If you can still play 'em, we'll start on the chords."

* * *

The next day, Joel sits across from her expectantly. "Let's hear it."

She rests the guitar in her lap, her left hand resting on the neck. She shifts in her chair.

"Could you…not watch?"

"What's wrong with me watchin'?"

"Never mind," she says, pressing down her index finger and plucking an F. Then she says, "It's just kind of…nerve-wracking."

"Nerve-wracking?"

"Yeah."

He crosses his arms. "You don't gotta be nervous, Ellie."

"I didn't say that! _Nerve-wracked_ is not _nervous_."

"Guess I've been raised on a different definition, then."

She puffs out her cheeks. "Whatever, forget I said anything."

She begins on the E major scale, stumbling on the last two notes she never stumbled on when practicing.

"Wait, wait, let me start over," she says, before he can stop her. She plays it until she gets it flawless (it only takes a few tries, give or take) before she plucks out the minor scale. That one decides to come easier.

"Seems I'll have to go find a six-string of your own if you keep it up."

"They're just scales, Joel," she scoffs. "So…chords."

"Chords," he says. He shows her the C major first, and she ends up only using one finger, so it's satisfyingly easy. Then he shows her the D major, which feels awkward and clumsy when she bends her first, middle, and third fingers around the neck. Then the E he shows her last, and that turns out to be just as easy as the C.

"I think those'll keep you busy for a while. Practicing will get your fingers more accustomed to the feel."

"They're already tired!" she says, continuing to strum. She stops for a moment, examining her fingers and stretching them. "How stupid."

"You'll get there, kiddo," he says. "I think we've got enough in for today."

Ellie sighs. "How do you remember all this stuff? Like the placement of fingers and the notes and the chords…major and minor and what those mean…"

"It's like what you said. I learned young. Some things just stick with you, like riding a bike."

"I've heard that saying before. I don't know what it means, though."

Joel scratches at his beard. "Ah...Bad analogy."

Ellie plucks along. "So can you play songs with these chords?"

"Sure you can," he begins. "You can play a song with one chord, depending on the rhythm, but it'd be simple. Some songs can get really complicated, and I wouldn't' be able to play them for you since it's…it's been a mighty long time since I've heard any of them." His eyes fall onto the six-string for a while. They get glassy, faraway. He's remembering something lost in time. Ellie can't fathom what it might be, but his face gives the impression that if she asked, he wouldn't say.

"Well…" she tries. "How about you play one of those simple songs? You could show me how you strum or different rhythms, or…" She takes the guitar and shoves it in his direction. Her hope inches up when he takes it.

"Let's see here…" He warms his fingers along the strings. He plays the chords he taught her, then he plays others he didn't teach her. His rhythm never gets very fast, slowly slipping into an easy cadence, almost lazy. Down, down, down up, down up, his arm goes. It's lulling, slow and sad. She notices the E major chord, then two others later. The tempo never strays, but the volume does, and the tone curiously rocks her. She lifts her feet up onto the chair, wrapping her arms around them.

The silence is stirring once he stops. She doesn't know if she's supposed to clap. He doesn't look like he'd care, either way.

She ventures, "You know what would make it even better?"

"Hm?"

"If you sang the words."

"Nice try, Ellie."

"I'm serious!" she says, grappling onto his smile. "The words are essential to the learning of the song."

"Essential."

"Plus, we're supposed to share things. If I knew a song, I'd share it with you."

"I'm touched, kiddo."

She throws her arms out. "It's so weird hearing you use sarcasm."

"I'm not using sarcasm."

She stares at him. "Okay, haha, you got me. But really, though. Stop. It's weird."

"Why's it weird?"

"Because you're…old."

"Why does everyone keep saying that?" he says, under his breath. "Alright, then, Ellie. I'll only be sarcastic to bug you."

"Oh, come on, what did I ever do to you?"

"That's what I think when you ask me to sing."

"Pft. Liar. Whenever I ask you to sing, I bet you think, 'Oh, I remember _all_ those times Ellie saved my ass; maybe I should say thanks by actually _doing_ what she asks.'"

"Playing the guilt card won't work on me, you know."

"Of course it won't," she huffs. "Nothing works on you."

"Nothing that you've tried."

She looks at him. "You mean there _is_ something?"

"Oh, of course there is."

She keeps looking at him, then she squints, then she falls back into her chair. "You have_ got_ to stop doing that!"

He laughs.

* * *

On her off times from the post, the guitar playing, the shooting practice, and spending time with other teenagers, Ellie visits Walter.

When Walter isn't at the hydroelectric plant, he's usually tinkering with something on his workbench in the inventory shelter. If he's immersed in whatever item he gets his hands on for the day, he never notices when Ellie hovers over his shoulder.

"Hey, Walt!"

He jumps, his knee slamming into the bottom of the table. A few screws roll off to the floor. "Oh, Ellie, you scared me."

"Sorry 'bout that, man," Ellie cackles. "Couldn't help it."

"You can't ever seem to help it."

"I do try to find amusement in the smallest of places."

He looks at her funny. "Right. Well, what do you want?"

"Have you forgotten about it already?" She puts her hands on her hips. Walter's never been one to feel urgency. Maybe she shouldn't be surprised. It's only been, what, a _month_? She sighs. "I mean, I know it's nothing compared to…this uh…" she leans over and finds a scratchy name on the side of it. "Sam…sung."

He goes to grab the screws on the floor. "Oh!" he exclaims, hitting the back of his head on the table as he comes up. He rubs it, cursing. "Right! No, I did not forget, I'd never forget a vintage beauty like that, no ma'am. But uh…" he scratches under his chin, placing the screws safely on the corner of the table, far from Ellie, she notices. "It's not broken, like you say. It's just in need of batteries."

"Batteries…okay. Where can I find those?"

"That's the problem. None that I've found have any more juice. I tried to connect some up to the hydrostatic processor up at the plant, for a makeshift recharger, you know, but instead, it melted and made the acid ooze out."

"So…" Ellie frowns. "Obviously, that means…"

"No, go, Ellie," he shakes his head. "Surely I'll figure out some other way. Batteries aren't hard to make, but if the voltage is too high…well, when handling something of such delicate nature, I'm afraid it will be fried beyond repair. "

Ellie blows out air through her mouth. "So if I'm somehow able to find batteries that work—"

"_AA _batteries that work."

"Okay, _AA batteries_, whatever those are," she glares, waving her hands. "That's the only way I'll be able to use it?"

"Without a doubt. Unless it's too old. Then I'll have to take it apart and find the other problem."

"Great. Thanks _so much_ for you invaluable input, Walt," she says, and he smiles at her, the insincere fill of her words completely eluding him.

"Anytime, Ellie."

She slams her door on the way out.

* * *

"AA batteries?" Bobby says, climbing up the rungs of the fence. He straddles the top plank, facing Ellie. She watches as the herd of cattle chews at the emerald blanket of grass. "I'm afraid I dunno what those are."

Bobby's older than her, about twenty, and a baby around when the world went to shit. He's usually the one she goes to when she doesn't feel like taking jabs for being better than a boy at everything.

"Yeah. I didn't figure you would."

"Didja ask Maria, yet?"

"She said there may be some under all the supplies in the storage at the plant. But there's no guarantee they'll even work anymore."

He thinks for a little bit, wiping his forehead with the back of his gloves. "Can you use one of those adapters?"

Ellie picks at a loose indent in the wood. She scratches at it with her nail. "No," she says. "It's too old to be compatible."

"Can't one of those geniuses figure out a way to make it work?"

"Well, Walter told me –"

"Walter's a cock-eyed bozo," Bobby states. "He loves all his toys and next to nothing else. Take your…whatever it is, and show it to someone else at the plant. If they were able to wire up electricity, I'm sure they'll be able to power up whatever you need."

"You don't give him enough credit, Bobby. Walter's smart. And he's already tried."

"Buck up, kid," he says, nudging her. "Sometimes, all you need is another eye for things. Find a different perspective and you might find a different answer."

Ellie bites her lip. "Well, Walter _was_ working on one of those movie player things."

Bobby holds his hands out. "My point. Wacky Walter gets too preoccupied and too distracted."

Ellie turns and jumps off the fence, landing in a thicket of soft grasses. "If I'm not back by dinner, tell Joel I'll be back soon!"

"What?" he says, face turning horrified. "You want me to tell Joel?"

"Who else?" Ellie laughs, running toward the stables.

"But…damn it, Ellie, you better get back before sundown!"

* * *

Ellie wrangles five of the workers to fix it. Joel's name really brought out the emergence of its necessity.

She watched them put together some metal parts, some kind of generator connection, and some well-placed measurements and voila!. She couldn't keep up very well. A lot of the words they used flew over her head. She asked someone to explain it, and it was just as bad as listening to the six syllable words they spoke during the experimental fixing. So she waited, watched, and hit play when they told her to, and one time out of a million it came to life. She couldn't contain her smile. She hugged each one and told them of Joel's immense thanks.

"I'm sure you'll get…uh, some kind of vacation time for this!"

And to think, it only took three hours and a dozen tries.

The dinner bell had rung an hour before by the time she makes it back to the settlement. The girl at the post, Jessica, opens the gate for her and radios her name to Maria. Or, Maria _probably_. Joel might've forced them to give him a radio. His dramatics have gotten a little exaggerated once they made their home here.

She's not halfway to the mess hall when she hears, "_Ellie._"

She cringes at the tone, but then she shrugs it off, turning and grinning. "Hey, Joel –"

He grips her shoulder. "What did I tell you about going off alone?"

"It was just the plant," she says, shrugging out of his hold. "Look, I was going to tell you, but –"

"But nothing, Ellie. I don't care where you went. The fact is that you went, telling no one –"

"Bobby! I told him to tell –"

"Throwing our rules aside, _my_ rules, like they mean nothing –"

"It wasn't even a big _deal. _The plant is less than a mile away –"

"You don't _realize_ what could have happened –"

"Oh, shut the fuck up, Joel. I'm beyond capable of taking care of myself! You know that better than anyone," she shouts at him, pushing her fist into his chest. "Here. This was it. That's all. It works. It was for you. You're fucking welcome. Jesus." She marches away, abruptly apathetic to his reaction. "I'm starving. See you later."

She stays out and watches the movie, dragging along Bobby in an effort of apologizing for Joel's overzealous wrath. It's the really old Godzilla movie, and they've all watched it near ten times, but everyone seems to enjoy it.

_It's alright,_ Ellie thinks. Too bad clickers aren't as cool as Godzilla.

"He didn't punch you, did he?"

"No," Bobby chuckles, but she can't tell if it's nervous or amused. "No, he didn't, but I know he wanted to."

"Maybe I should've taken you with me."

"I should've offered. I wasn't thinking."

"It's not your fault. You were busy. I would've gone no matter what."

Bobby lies back on the blanket, looking up to the dark night sky. They aren't as clear to the eye under all the lights of town. "Was it so important?"

Ellie's not sure how to answer. "Maybe not. But I wanted it to be a surprise. There haven't been any good surprises lately."

"You're right. I'd go for a nice surprise any day of the week," he says. "What was it?"

"Some kind of music player. It had a cassette still inside. I didn't want to use any of the battery, so I didn't listen to it."

"Huh," Bobby says. "Damn. Music. Joel's gonna appreciate that."

"I dunno. Maybe."

"Maybe?" Bobby laughs. "He's gonna cherish it until he needs a grave."

"He does love music," she concedes.

"Nah, he really _likes_ music. He loves you."

"No, he doesn't."

"Alright, I'm pretty sure he does."

"Ugh, you're grossing me out."

"Honestly? _That_ grosses you out? Hasn't he ever –"

"I'm seriously about to throw up all over you from disgust."

"Hold it back until Godzilla destroys the rest of the town. I want to enjoy this."

"You're not even watching it."

"_You're_ not even watching it."

"Okay. I take it back. You're pointless, too."

"Hey, I have more point than Mike."

"Whatever helps you sleep at night."

* * *

She steps quietly into the house, hoping Joel to be already fast asleep. It is past his bedtime, according to the clock. The light coming from the window puts a damper on all the hopes, though.

When she slips through the doorway, he's sitting on the couch, the guitar taking up the cushion beside him. He's holding the cassette from the player, looking but not really seeing it. He glances up when she closes the door.

"I didn't know you found one of these."

She weaves herself near the hallway, standing against the wall. "It was lying around in that music shop last year. I hadn't found any cassettes other than the one at Bill's."

The cassette spins in his hands, then taps against his palm, and when she's about to make her way to her mattress, Joel says, "You are my sunshine."

Her face contorts. "What?"

"The name of the song. It's an old...lullaby."

"Oh," she says. "Older than you?"

"Older than me."

When he reaches for the guitar, she hurriedly slips into the chair adjacent to the couch. She folds her legs indian-style, holding her breath.

He loosens his fingers against the neck, and he brushes out a few notes. He clears his throat.

"Now, Ellie..."

"You are _not_ talking yourself out of singing."

"No, I'm not," he says slowly. "I just never thought..." He clicks his teeth in his mouth and trails off permanently.

He begins an introduction of chords, strumming down, down, down up, down up.

"You are my sunshine," he begins, saying more than singing. It reminds her of sluggish talking, with the vowels stretched like plastic and tape. "My only sunshine. You make me happy when skies are gray." The lyrics punch, the words disguised with distinct, fabricated happiness.

She knows at an instant that he can do it better, miles better. This is just an apology, or an obligation. "You'll never know, dear, how much I love you." Singing this emotionally hurts him, for some reason, any reason at all, and it takes her a while to realize because she wants to listen so badly. "Please don't take my sunshine away."

The excitement and the astonishment inside her falls. Her breath comes back. "Stop, Joel."

The sounds fade away, and he looks at her. "What's –"

"It's just a stupid music player. You don't have to do this."

"Ellie, what on earth –"

She wipes roughly at her eyes with the back of her sleeve. "Oh, shit."

"Hey, now, I know I'm rusty, but was it that bad?"

She barks out a strangled laugh, shaking her head and hiding her face. "No, no, not even."

"You don't have much to compare it to."

She sighs loudly, trying to dispel the feeling inside her. She stretches out her legs, and she musters up courage. "You sang that for Sarah."

He leans back into the couch cushions. He doesn't seem to be taken aback that she caught on as he puts the instrument aside and glances out the window. "I was nineteen, green, and she was looking up at me through her crib. She was a tiny thing, just over a year old."

There's a long silence. She's so transparent. All this time she's been nagging at him to sing something, and the world takes what should've been sweet and crushes it into something sour.

"Geez, Joel, I'm so sorry. I...I shouldn't have hounded you. I'm..." She stands up and shuffles toward her bedroom. "I'm going to bed."

"It's nobody's fault," he says before she can leave. "It's yours least of all."

She grips at the wall, and she feels the plaster ridges underneath her fingers. "Never feel any obligation like this to me, okay, Joel? Don't ever feel like you need to do something that's in the manual, just because you think you need to. You don't. So just...goodnight. And...you should've been a singer. You have a nice voice."

She almost escapes, but he gets a hand on her shoulder before she can.

"Baby girl, listen to me," he says. He directs her to turn and face him. "I was singin' for you because I wanted to, not because of anything else. Don't think for a second that I'm walking through the paces because I have to, or that I'm just carrying you along because you're still some mission I have to see through. That's not...That's...what made you think that?"

He really wants to know. Ellie's mouth opens, and for a second she's not sure. They've been together a long time. But uncertainty is always like a virus, tainting everything with doubt.

"I guess...something a friend told me today."

"A friend?"

"No one you like."

"I didn't think so." He brushes at her bangs, and he smiles. "I'll let you get some sleep, now."

"Can you sing more tomorrow?"

He gives her a look. "This better not have started something."

"I was just asking. Sheesh."

"If I feel like it," he relents, before stepping away. "Goodnight, baby girl."

She watches him walk to his room. "Night, Joel."

When she lays her head down on her ragged, lumpy pillow, Bobby's voice flutters through her ear like a moth. _He loves you._

She'd rather not have to deal with that. It's dangerous, and it's always been a bad combination. She knows about it, just as much as Joel and everyone else. Common knowledge. There's enough to fear and enough to worry, but it still manages to blossom in the waste like a ghost. He's never said it, and that's the only thing that gives her hope.

So she prays he doesn't and never will. In the same breath, she prays he does.


	3. Chapter 3

a/n; I'm sure I'm not the only one to wonder about this... I can't IMAGINE how much it would SUCK.

* * *

This is not happening. This is _not happening._

Another one, soiled. She only had three more good pairs. There have been no groups to go scouting for old clothes, rags, or material to manipulate into extra garments in weeks. She has to figure out what she needs to do, quick. It's not like it's going to go away. She should probably find Maria. Ugh, fuck.

"Ellie? You in there?"

"Yep. Just doing my business."

Their plumbing system was not yet supremely sufficient, but it doesn't really matter. Ellie is still impressed by it. She's heard about toilets, and she's never been so up close to one that worked. The sewage line would get backed up occasionally, and it was a nasty job to fix, but it was a luxury she cherished. She doesn't miss grass, leaves, and bushes being the primary choice for relieving herself.

"I'm headin' out to the plant, today. If you need anything –"

"Is Maria going to be in town?"

"Uh…I believe she's watching over the little ones."

Awesome. She'll corner her at lunch.

"Okay, cool." She rinses her hands and walks into the living room. Joel is filling his guns with rounds, placing the full ones into the holsters on his belt.

"Gonna help out with the kids?"

She leans against the table, watching him work. "Maybe. I was going to ask her if she had any jobs for me."

"You could tag along with me," he says, glancing at her. "They got in a batch of some firearms, yesterday. I'm meetin' up with some of the other guys, and we're going to look through 'em. You can help us out."

"Um…" she pushes off the table. "I'm gonna have to pass."

"You sure?" he asks, sliding the last gun on the strap across his back. She turns and he follows behind her out the front door. "We could find you a nicer pistol, or I can show you some tricks to upgrade the one you have."

"Nah," she says, kicking a rock down the path. "Some other time. I don't really feel like messing with guns."

"Well…" he gives her an inconspicuous side glance. She has to admit, turning down a chance at handling guns is partially uncharacteristic. "Alright, then."

They walk along, and she has to consciously hold herself back from grabbing at her stomach. Oh, man. It's acting up like a real bitch.

"You know, if afterwards there's still some daylight, we could go hunting."

"No, thanks."

He pauses his walk briefly. "You never turn hunting down."

"Well, today I am."

"Is everything okay, Ellie?"

"Everything's dandy," she says, holding back a grimace. Forget lunch. She's going to find Maria _now_.

Joel probably sees right through her, but he doesn't push it. Wisely. He keeps with her until the makeshift daycare and school appears toward their left. He scratches the back of his head.

"I'll see you at dinner."

She turns down the block. "Later, Joel."

Once he's out of sight, Ellie charges to the daycare room. Maria will be with the four children at this time of the day, until the parents come back for lunch time. Most of the parents, Ellie's realized fast, don't like to be absent from their children for long.

Most of the families only include husbands and wives. A few are pregnant, but many are afraid of the possibilities that will arrive from its vulnerability. The ones that have children already are slowly changing their minds. Many parents of older children are widows. There are one or two that are lucky and still living.

When she finds her way into the room, she sees Veronica tending to the twins, Jasmin and Jamie, and the older two kids are laughing at a book near the window in the back of the room. Maria is absolutely nowhere.

"Hey, Ellie," Veronica smiles, giving Jamie—or Jasmin, it's so hard to tell—a toy. "Come to help out?"

"Actually, I was looking for Maria. Do you know where she is?"

"She was radioed to the cattle yard about an hour ago. One of our cows was in labor, and a lot of the guys are inexperienced. She wanted to oversee it, herself. You know how she is. We can't afford a death out there."

_Fucking fantastic._ Ellie deflates. The cattle yard was across town, and Maria would be too busy to pay private attention to her. The only amusement she could muster out of it was imagining Bobby elbow deep in cow dung, blood, and placenta.

"Oh. Okay."

"Did you need anything? I'm sure I could help."

Ellie hesitates, nearly blinded by her smile. Veronica is in her twenties, twenty-four or twenty-five. She's the only other girl who's older and nearest Ellie's age in the camp. The rest of the girls are much older or much younger. Allison, one of the girls in daycare, is the oldest child, turning eight next month.

Somehow, Veronica has retained a graceful femininity along with her adapted, rough-honed quality of survival. She's good with a gun, but she's deft at looking nice while using one. Her black hair and clean skin are intimidating, and Ellie's been known to avoid her at gatherings or groupings. It also doesn't help that Mike, Rob, and even Bobby have all mentioned how they wouldn't mind a nice dicking or two with her.

It's moments like this when Ellie ardently misses Riley.

"Um…" she says, almost rejecting Veronica. Her gut punches her in protest. "I guess…you can."

She lets Jasmin and Jamie continue with the toys, setting her attention on Ellie as she guides her to one of the tables. Ellie has to forcibly keep herself from shrinking away.

"What's up?"

"I'm, uh…" Ellie begins, and she feels an immediate rush of embarrassment she hadn't been counting on. _Oh, fuck this,_ she thinks. It would be a thousand times worse facing Joel. "I'm going to need some more underwear."

* * *

By the time Maria gets back, Ellie has been gradually overwhelmed.

It isn't Veronica's fault. In fact, Ellie's found a deeper appreciation for her. She had to deal with having a period _while_ she was traveling the country and surviving against _runners._ Still, the intimidation hasn't dissipated, any, and Ellie presumes it never will, but Veronica isn't as unapproachable as Ellie first thought. She's actually pretty cool, regardless of how terrible the topic is becoming.

"You mean there's _nothing_ for the cramping?"

She looks apologetic. "We haven't found much for pain-killing, besides antibiotics."

They're still sitting at the table when Maria walks into the room.

"Hey, Maria," Veronica says.

"Veronica. Ellie. How're they doing?" She glances to the children, but she catches Ellie's face quickly. "What's wrong?"

Veronica's smile is amused. Ellie crosses her arms and sighs.

"Ellie has officially arrived to womanhood."

Ellie groans. "Because I was never a woman _before_ I could bleed out my vagina?"

Maria puts her hands on her hips, her eyes glinting. "Well, now. That's good, Ellie."

"Good? _Good?"_

"Healthy."

"I don't care," Ellie complains. "It's really fucking annoying."

"It is…a messy business, being a female," Maria concedes, laughing. Veronica laughs, too, and Ellie can only feel bloated and twice her size.

"Yeah, well, Veronica gave me the gist of it."

"It wasn't as bad…before," Maria says. "But we've been doing as best we can. Here, we'll find you some supplies. Roni, wait here until Johnny picks up the twins, okay?"

Ellie learns too much about the female anatomy by the time their talk is done. But she does receive more clothing and rags, which is all she wanted. She learns the best ways they've gone about taking care of themselves, how higher activity levels help, how long it'll last, and she tries to comprehend why girls are chosen instead of boys.

Maria laughs at that, saying women were chosen because men would never be up to the task.

"I just taught two teenage boys how to bring a baby calf into the world. They can take clickers and hunters, but they could barely handle that."

Ellie chuckles at the thought.

"I'm guessing you haven't told Joel," Maria says.

Ellie chokes out a laugh. "Are you kidding? It took me a whole day to realize what was actually going on with me." She stops at the admittance when Maria's face softens.

"I mean..." she backpedals. "I knew about this. I learned the basics about it at boarding school, a long time ago, but..." She shrugs. "I didn't think it'd happen so soon."

Maria smiles at her with an easy grace. "It happens to the best of us, sweetheart. Even the toughest, like you."

There's no way to impede its process. The disappointment she feels is highly dramatic, but she doesn't care.

She taps her fingers in a disjointed rhythm on the table. "I'd rather no one know about this," Ellie says. "Do you think you can...not tell anyone?"

Maria gives her a thoughtful stare. "You mean Joel."

"Especially Joel, but everyone else, too."

"Ellie, he needs to know."

"Ugh," she moans. Her head_ thunks_ on the table. "Why the hell does he have to know?"

"Because he's your primary caretaker," she answers, weaving her words along. They sound careful. "And he...it would be good for him to be aware."

_Yeah, yeah_. She's gotten acclimated from everyone calling (or alluding) him to being her makeshift father. She doesn't disagree with it, but she does appreciate the fact Maria used a lesser synonym.

Ellie raspberries. "I'm still not gonna tell him."

"How about I tell him, and you don't have to worry about it?" she suggests. "He'll probably feel just as uncomfortable about it as you do."

Ellie opens her mouth. Then she closes it, in rapid succession. "I'd...really appreciate that, Maria."

"No problem, sweetie," she says. "I'll make sure you're not around when I do."

A smile spreads on Ellie's face. She thanks Maria fully, but the awful bloating keeps her from giving her a hug.

"C'mon, Ellie," Maria says. "Let's go find you something to do."

* * *

Maria ends up pairing Ellie with Veronica to walk the perimeter together. Ellie's done it by herself when the alert of hunters was high, but now it's mostly for getting Ellie's mind off the feeling. Veronica had nothing else to do after daycare, so she readily agreed to be Ellie's company. Ellie's irritability rose at being stuck with her, but it wasn't like she had any legitimate reason to tell Veronica no.

They walk at a leisurely pace, holding rifles aloft. Ellie's never had a hard time talking to others, but she hesitates before speaking.

_This is so awkward,_ she thinks.

"So...do you like books?"

"I love books," Veronica answers. "I love them more than movies."

"Really?"

"Sure," she says. "Stories have more meat. It's like I always get full when I finish one."

"I know what you mean," Ellie says, suddenly smiling. "Except when they have to be continued. And you never find the one with the ending."

Veronica looks at her. "Like ones that are in a series?"

"Yeah," she says. "There's one I've been reading. It's...well, it's this comic, and it's actually better than you'd think it is. It's called—"

"Wait, let me guess," Veronica says. "Savage Starlight?"

Ellie stares at her. "Yes! How did you..."

"I've been around," she says, laughing at Ellie's expression. "Those posters around every city I've been in are hard to miss. I have a few volumes."

"Which ones?"

"Well, I found the first one a while back. I have the second one, and the sixth one, and I think I have the eighth and ninth. I have the last one, but it's in pretty bad shape."

Ellie bites her cheek. "You mean, you have the ending?"

"Yes, but it still ends vague. James Ryan and Daniela are still making —"

"No, no, sh!" Ellie exclaims. "Don't tell me anything!"

"You don't want to know what happens?"

"No, I do, but it would be so awesome if you let me borrow it. And maybe the ninth and the sixth. I'll give you the rest of the ones I have so you can read the whole thing."

Veronica grins. "You mean you've found _eleven_ whole comics?"

"I didn't find all of them," Ellie says, almost embarrassed. "Joel helped out, too."

She acts as if she thinks about it. "I _guess_ I can let you borrow mine. As long as we can talk about the story after we finish."

"Deal," Ellie says, and she figures she's got to give Veronica more credit. She seems genuinely happy about it. "Does it really end vague?"

"Are you sure you want me to tell you?" she questions back, giving her a mock serious glare. "I don't think you want to lose the surprise factor."

"Well..." Ellie grimaces. "Ugh, is it open-ended? Because those can be both good and bad."

"It is..." she says slowly. "In a way. It doesn't answer some questions, but it does answer the most important."

"Most important?"

"James and Daniela," Veronica says, like it's obvious. "You can't tell me you haven't wondered if they fuck. The sexual tension between those two could melt glass."

Ellie opens her mouth, flounders for a second, then says, "Seriously? But Daniela pushes him away all the time."

"Yeah, because she loves him so much. But she's a scientist and is practical to a fault. God, I could strangle her."

"But James is so..."

"Fucking hot?" Veronica laughs. "C'mon, Ellie, he wasn't drawn like that on accident."

"Okay, I know that. But he's so arrogant and a complete asshole, and he messes around with all those Traveler girls..." Ellie trails, abruptly unsure of how she read the entire comic. Sexual tension? There were a lot of things she caught, but she never really felt that one. "And even later, when they do start liking each other, he's..."

"He does come off that way, but he grows. The gap is bigger between mine, so it might be easier to tell. Give him a chance. He does a lot of subtle things. Did you say you needed the sixth one?"

Ellie sighs. "Yeah."

"That one's a really good one. You'll see. Your heart's gonna cry by three pages in."

Ellie raises her brows. "Are you being dramatic? I don't think I'm gonna like it that much."

"Trust me, Ellie," she says, placing a hand on her shoulder. "It's my favorite one I've read. It's so damn heartbreaking! I swear. If you don't want to cry in the middle of it, I'll do your laundry for a week."

Her conviction is so high, Ellie nearly hesitates. At laundry.

"Are you shitting me? You've totally got a deal, Veronica."

"Good," she says triumphantly, as if she's already won. "And call me Roni."

"Okay. Roni."

Ellie smiles again. The cramping isn't nearly as bad as it was an hour ago.

When they begin to make their way back into the settlement, Ellie can make out a group of their men coming back from the plant. Ellie sees Joel near the back.

Roni sees them, too. "Y'know, I'm a little jealous of you."

Ellie feels her mouth droop. She blinks at Roni. "Huh?"

"Joel," she clarifies, seeming amused at her reaction. She eyes the men coming in. "He's so dark and mysterious. I wouldn't mind getting some of his attention."

It takes a moment for Ellie to process. "What are you saying?"

She breaks out laughing. "Sorry, Ellie. He's attractive. I'd rather go for men like him than the little boys who think it's cool when they make bloaters explode. His age doesn't matter. Why should it? I think it adds to him."

Ellie's brain stops working. Then she's so disgusted at the thought, she can't even talk. Then, miraculously, she sees the point. Mike and Rob don't have much going for them when it comes to maturity and dark, secret pasts. It's a viable reason why they aren't attractive.

It still makes her malfunction, regardless.

Veronica shakes her head. "Seriously, though? I think...I just really miss my dad. I was about your age when he got bit. And God, he was tough. I had started to believe he was meant to live forever. He carried us through shitty times, and he never quit protecting us. All it took was one second of bad fucking timing."

She seems lost for a moment. Ellie hesitates, and her mind thinks about her mom, and how she can't remember her face, and her letter that's standing beside her mattress every night.

"He'd be proud of you, and your mom. For finding this place and making it so far."

"Oh, Ellie," she answers. It takes her several moments before she can say anything else. "I like to think so. I just...sorry. Remembering the details is like licking knives, sometimes. It's good you have Joel."

"Joel...he isn't really my—"

"Oh, I know," she says. "Everyone knows that by now. You've been making that clear."

Ellie pauses at that, but Roni smiles at her.

"Don't worry. I get it. When I lost my dad, I didn't talk to my mom for months. Not really. Admitting he wasn't going to appear beside me when I woke up was easy. Accepting it was the obstacle. So, I get it."

Ellie stares at her for a long while, then glances to the group of men, then glances to the ground.

"It's...it doesn't make sense, does it? You...you lost a dad. I gained one, and I can't even call him what he is to his face."

"No, I wouldn't say that, Ellie," she says, and she smiles sadly. "You're lucky to have each other. Beautiful things can still happen, here, and it's a gift to see it. It's a miracle to have it." She glances to her. "I'll bet he's never called you his daughter."

_No,_ Ellie realizes suddenly. _He calls me _baby girl_, and it's an admittance he's made all by himself._

"I guess he hasn't."

Ellie wants to cry for some reason. She blames it on the period.


	4. Chapter 4

a/n; I'm kind of in an awestruck stupor at all the support/criticisms you guys have given for this drabble story. Thank you all so much. It always means more than I can say, so I'll just try to deliver my thanks by posting chapters. I hope you all continue to enjoy the story!

* * *

Ellie stares at her reflection. Her face flickers against the murky backdrop of black, rippling glass, and she thinks it'd be less intimidating if there were some blue colors glinting back at her. Joel stands waist-deep in it, and his figure fights against the cold, daunting glare of the water.

This is already the fifth time they've been out here, at the small inlet lake expanding from the river, budding off the direction toward the dam. The lessons don't seem to get any better. A gallon of the stuff never fails to burn up her nose by the time they finish. It has a vendetta to kill her. That's nothing new, but at least it isn't as bad as bullets.

Joel makes his way deep in the water, the line hitting high on his chest.

"Alright, Ellie," he says. "Let's do it, again."

Swimming was so much more appealing before she passed out in it in that subway, those weeks—maybe months—ago. Joel supports the idea that it'll become easier, funner, and less of a chore once she gets the handle on the technique and stay afloat.

Ellie begs to differ, but Joel doesn't pay that much mind.

She huffs as she slowly pushes into the water. She moves her arms and legs, and the weight makes her feel clumsy. The shorts and t-shirt do nothing but bog her down.

"You know…" she breathes out, halfway to him. She's lost count of what lap she's on. It feels like she's a pruned, old, nasty woman. "This sucks."

"I missed that the first ten times."

"Shut…up," she says. "It's true. You don't…know what it's like. All you've been doing is standing there."

She reaches him, and she grasps onto his shoulders quickly.

"I learned just like you're learnin'," he says, ignoring her commiseration. "You made it just fine. Now swim back."

"Hold your horses," she says, spending valuable time catching her breath. "This is exhausting."

"It'll get better over time."

"You say that about everything, but I don't believe it."

"You will."

"Guitar is still not better."

"Because you're spending too much time listenin' to me instead of practicing."

"Whatever! You aren't that great, Joel."

He sighs, "Alright, kiddo. Turn and get –"

"And for the record, I only listen to you before I go to bed."

His eyes are exasperated. "Okay, Ellie, enough stallin'. I'll turn you around, and you'll be on your own."

Ellie digs her fingers into the fabric of his shirt. "How about I get behind you…and you pull me back to the bank?"

She smiles at him, but they're too close for him to think it's real.

"You know I've got you, Ellie. We went over everything the first day, and you've been doin' good."

Rarely, Ellie's noticed, Joel reads her wrong. He'll read her how he wants to read her, but those occasions are for when he needs it. They've both gotten good at avoiding the things they don't want to talk about, like questionable choices or supportive lying. He's got it right this time, like usual, and Ellie feels like a stupid, tiny, little girl.

"I'm not afraid," she argues. "I'm sick of kicking at all this nothing under me."

He looks at her for a moment. "This is good for you. The skill is gonna stay with you. And there are some fish in here you're kickin' at." He nudges her. "Now, c'mon. Get around to my back. I don't care much for your complaining."

She grins, using him as a ledge as she shimmies behind him. She clasps her hands onto his shoulders. She's figured out, when he let's her do this, they're ending it for the day.

"I wouldn't complain if you didn't suck so much as a teacher."

"What're you saying back there? Or is that some mosquito buzzing around?"

She punches a knuckle into the meat of his shoulder blade. "Okay, Joel. I actually don't really complain. It's more like _stating_ my displeasure toward this...activity."

"Uh-huh."

"Besides, if I spend a lot of time forcing myself into getting good at something I don't like, what's the point? I'll never do it willingly, unless I absolutely have to. I could be spending this time we're wasting on something meaningful, or even enjoyable. Like - "

"Reading joke books?"

"Haha, you're so funny. No. I was going to say eradicating populations of clickers and game, for the greater good of the community."

"Eradicating. Alright, no joke books. What books _have_ you been reading?"

Joel comes up onto the shallow ground near the bank. Ellie feels for the soft press of mud against her toes. It pushes between them, and some of it sticks to the underside of her feet as she walks over to her boots.

"Whatever I can find," she answers. "There's a bigger collection than you'd think."

Hm," he says, going to put on his own shoes. They're beat up, ratty boots like hers, and Ellie spies a hole in the leather. She has a mind to think they're nearly as old as him. "Never been a fan of those things."

"Gee," she says. "I wouldn't have guessed."

He doesn't smile, but he seems to be thinking about something else. His eyes are hard, and so is his mouth. "Ellie, listen. Sometimes, you gotta get good at things you hate doing. Survive and endure, that the saying? This will help you in the long run. You'll get used to it, just like every other thing."

_Survive and endure. _

She doesn't want to think about that comic, not after the ending. God, it wasn't even an ending. She needs to find Roni and discuss it, and tell her that she owes her laundry (the sixth one was _sappy_ not heartbreaking), but it cuts a little too close, a little too soon. She's decided not to get stuck on it. So she ignores the motto for another day. Today, it'll be just like every other thing.

She's gotten used to a lot of things she's come to hate. It's a methodical habit. She's even imagined the Joel who had another life, who never had to kill to keep himself upright and breathing. She still sneaks peeks at the photo of him and Sarah. The picture has long since been tattooed within her to last lifetimes. She wonders who that man is, producing a smile that she's never gotten and a happiness she will never see. Who is he, who was he? She's made up stories for him, a fiction that suits her when she peels away the wrinkles from his face and the exhaustion from his eyes. It doesn't measure up to anything, in the long run. He isn't the one standing before her. When Sarah died, Joel died, and he's not coming back.

She can't mourn him - she can't mourn Sarah. She would have liked you, Joel said. _I would've liked her._ How can you mourn people you wished you knew? No, that's useless. Completely and utterly fucking useless to wonder about.

This Joel will always be Sarah's Joel, and the dead Joel lies against whatever remains of her. The past is the past, and Ellie believes you can make peace with it. It's been proven. But the past lingers. Riley's tag is close to her neck and taps at her chest, and the hope of her mother's pride is lodged inside her belly.

Ellie is a walking, talking symbol, she'll think some days. She's an imitation. She's a coincidence.

She glances at the water behind her. Swimming is a precaution. It's stupid. It's stupid that she can't rise above her own fear. What's she so afraid of? She's tolerated so many worse things. It isn't like the experiences never bother her, but they're different. They're resolved. Swimming is not necessary for this life, but it _is_ nice to know it, she'll admit. Joel speaks true: she'll need this when he's not around. Her skin will prune, and she will sink from the weight of her bones, down and under the black maw of water. It's hard to keep afloat without someone there to help and - she hates these things, all these things, but that is only a consequential necessity to get _used_ to them.

_He loves you_, someone said. _I'll bet he's never called you his daughter,_ said another. Bobby and Veronica might as well be strangers. They don't _know_ them or him. Somedays, she's not even sure if she knows him, either.

_Survive and endure_, said a comic book, a fictional, fucking comic book.

It'll just be like every other thing. Knowing doesn't take away from what she's grown into. There is still a guitar, and music, and hunting, and the words he says. There is always going to be hope, wherever she looks. That's like every other thing, too. Fuck hope. She loves hope.

"Sure, Joel. I know. I'll get used to it."

He glances at her, the surprise painted in his face. He must have expected a longer fight. Thinking about that wasted breath gives her a sudden, deeper exhaustion than the kind she got from swimming.

"Alright, kiddo," he says. "I'd like you to get it down as quick as you can, but you've been doing well keeping yourself above the water line. Actually, you know what?" He laughs a little. "You're doing just fine. We can slow down on the practicing. I'll quit forcing you into it. What do you think?"

She looks back at her reflection in the water. It's still actively rippling, and the sun hits it with several golden, blonde glares. It changes her face. It changes her body. _This lake,_ she thinks, out in between the plant and Jackson, in the middle of the woods. She never wants to get used to this place.

"Ellie? I'm talking to you."

"What? Oh. Oh, yeah. I am definitely up to not coming here for a while."

She picks up a stray twig and chucks it into the water. It stirs up a storm in the middle, and she watches the lines branch out like a spider web. _Does he ever wish I was her?_

"Hey, Joel?" she ventures eventually, as they hike through the thinning trees.

"Hm?" he says.

"Thanks. For...not letting me drown."

She doesn't look at him when she says it. She reaches up and grasps the cold, flattened metal into her hand, the letters pressing imprints into her palm. She twirls it in between her fingers, and she's aware there is a lot she's not saying.

He keeps his answer silent for a while. She can feel him looking at her. He finally says, "Always, baby girl."

_Always_. She tightens her grip. They're avoiding it, and they'll keep avoiding it until she steps forward and disrupts their dance.

_Not today,_ she thinks. Maybe tomorrow, maybe next year. Perhaps when Sarah's spirit doesn't choke her. Maybe when she isn't so scared of loneliness and death.

"I don't think I ever thanked you, Ellie," Joel begins, ducking under a branch. "Last winter."

Ellie can't help but stare at him. "Um...because you never thank me for _anything_._"_

"That ain't all true," he says. "But it's better to let you know."

This isn't like him. They don't bring up that time, and it's never been a point of serious discussion. It just happened that way. She almost talked about it, a few times, but it left her queasy when she thought of what to say. "Are you okay?"

"Of course I am."

"...are you sure?"

"You think I have fever?"

"Something like that. Something really bad."

He sighs. "I mean it."

She develops an uncomfortable feeling. She combats it with humor. "Well...I figured you were more of a long term investment than a short one, when I decided that you should stay alive."

"Investments are a risky business."

She glances at him, then at his hands. The skin of his fingers are thick and worn. "It wasn't too bad. I'm still reaping the benefits."

He tries to smile, but his lips can't seem to make it. "You'll never have to go through something like that again."

The lesson must have gotten to him, too, she thinks. Or maybe the water. There is something insidious about that lake when you snort some of the water up into your brain.

"You don't know that."

"No, I don't," he says. "But you won't."

His eyes are chilly, his voice weary but firm. He's rarely protective when there aren't other people or monsters around.

"Okay," she says.

"It...isn't a promise."

That's more reassuring than if he said it _was_ a promise. "Good. Your promises are - "

"Shitty." Then he laughs, and it's a rough bark. Ellie laughs, too. There's nothing funny about it, but she doesn't mind. They've been so _serious_.

"Man, I'm fucking freezing!" she says, making a show of squeezing out her clothes. "I can't believe I forgot to bring another pair. I never forget."

"Just one of those days," he says. "We're almost back, you'll be fine."

"Aren't you cold?"

"Mm. But I'm not a complainer, like you."

"Oh, whatever, there are plenty of times when you complain."

He looks at her. "Got anything to back that up?"

She quickly files through memories. "Remember those times when we had to deal with a lot of shitty situations? Yeah. Every one, you had to bitch about something."

His brows furrow. "That doesn't count."

"Sorry, Joel." She shrugs. "You're pretty vocal when you're mad."

"You're one to talk, kiddo."

She splutters. "Just because I say _fuck_ when I'm mad doesn't mean I'm complaining."

"Ellie, you say all _kinds_ of things when you're riled up."

"So? I just get passionate."

"A passionate temper, more like."

"I do not have a bad temper!" she squawks. "And I don't complain!"

They debate for the rest of the walk back to Jackson. It's a lost battle for Ellie, since Joel points out she complains about not being a complainer, which really doesn't make any sense - but she coaxes a valuable smile out of him by the end of it. The watts are lacking, and she can't help the constant comparing to the alternate Joel, but she'll take anything she can get.

It's all an inclining form of progress, she thinks, getting to her space in the house to change (it isn't necessarily a room yet, but it's getting there). And that progress is always what makes the wavering hope start to fester again.


	5. Chapter 5

"Alright, Ellie," Tommy says, placing a hand on her shoulder. "I'm gonna throw you the ball this play, you okay with that?"

Of _course_ she's okay with that. She's nearly a pro.

She eyes the line of their opponents across the field. Earl, Houser, and Joel look like they're discussing something to Rob and Roni, while Mike is distracted when Roni crosses her arms under her chest. Ellie's been paired with Mike the past few plays. While he can be dangerous when he concentrates, Ellie's figured out she can slip by his left side much smoother than his right.

Roni is paired up against Bobby, and John and Drew, a thick, burly guy who spends most of his time up at the plant, protect Tommy until he throws the ball off. Anna, Houser's wife, acts as a running back and, when needed, a wide receiver like Ellie. They make a pretty good pair. Anna's competitive streak is off the charts, and Houser tries and continually fails to best her.

Earl and Rob fight against John and Drew, but that group is evenly matched. Tommy's only been sacked a handful of times, and he's squirrely in the pocket. He maneuvers all around like it's his favorite thing to do.

Joel stays in the backfield, ready to attack. It seems whoever is able to get away from the person defending them, Joel's there to correct the mistake. It's intimidating, but that's Joel's trademark.

Ellie thought it'd be easy to get past him. She's quicker and smaller, and as many times as she's tried to duck underneath him or give him a wide berth when she delves into the field, he always seems to snag her right as she's about to pull away.

"Throw it when I get past Joel," she says. "That's the only way we'll get a touchdown."

They've made do with measurements and field length. It isn't as long as a football field, since from what Tommy, Joel, and the other older men have described, a real football field was _huge._ But they've found a lengthy enough space between Jackson and where the forest begins, and they've used bulky rocks as indicators of the first downs.

Tommy shakes his head. "This is our third down. They're probably gonna rush us, so we should get the ball off as quick as we can. We'll make the down and think about the touchdown after."

Ellie sighs. "Fine. But next time, I totally wanna make a touchdown."

"You will," Tommy grins. "Joel ain't gonna make it easy for ya, but I know you can do it."

"I can get past Houser and distract Joel if you need me to, no problem," Anna says. "Or you can give the ball to me and I can throw a lateral pass to Ellie. They won't know what hit them."

"I can do that, too," Bobby says. He claps Ellie on the back. "Roni's good at keeping on me, but I can move around her. I'm pretty sure you're the only one who could fake out Joel."

"Fake out? More like run as fast as I can," Ellie says.

John laughs. Drew crosses his arms and looks impatient.

"You guys done pussy footin', yet?"

Ellie rolls her eyes. "Shut up, Mike."

"Alright, let's go," Tommy says, and they all settle into their positions. Mike takes his spot five feet in front of her, leaning into his legs, and they perform their mandatory stare down.

"Why such a determined face, Ellie? Think I'll let you catch the ball?"

"Don't get cocky." She flicks her eyes past him, toward the pretty touchdown marker. "It'll turn Roni off."

Mike laughs a cough. He has this misconception that he's discreet, when Roni was the first to notice.

She's too nice, Ellie's thought on occasion. She really shouldn't smile as much at him, but she's got a thing for male attention.

"You think I care what Roni thinks?"

"No," Ellie says. "You _live_ by it."

Tommy shouts, "Hut!" And Ellie pushes through Mike like he's full of stuffing. It takes him a precious moment to take off after her. Tommy sees the gap she made, and he tosses it to her easily.

The leather is worn and discolored under her hands, and she loves it. The feeling is empowering. Everyone shifts toward her direction. She's suddenly the most important person on the field.

She pulls away from Mike enough for him to be forgotten as a threat. She runs past the down marker, and she grins. Then she sees Joel, and the grin twists into gritted teeth. She'll be the first to say that she never has more fun than when she talks strategy and tosses the ball around during a game, but the fun shoots up exponentially when she can rub in a win and flaunt it until the next time.

Tommy and Joel have their own brand of competition. The stakes are never high, of course - either an extra lookout day here or a hunting trip there - but it's more about pride and rivalry, and maybe, if Ellie can guess right, a lesser form of affection. Ellie's never witnessed the two physically throw a punch or verbally blow up in each other's faces, but she's been near enough to get caught up in the web of tension. It isn't always there, but it makes it's visitor's appearance just like emotions do. They joke and smile and get in the occasional laugh with one another, and the family thread will keep them bound. It's frayed, but it lived through the destruction of their past. It'll thrive in the paradise of now.

In the meantime, Ellie will continue to be chosen first by whoever wins the coin toss. It's like a power play. She used to think Joel picked her first on their first game because she was still terrible at all of it, and, out of his _gracious_ heart, he felt bad for her. Then she got better. And then the first time Tommy picked her before Joel, Joel was so surprised, he had a hard time hiding that he _was_ surprised.

She laughed in his face, that day. Every time she's been on Tommy's side, he's never let her get a touchdown. It's been_ weeks. _It beckons behind Joel's hulking figure, the marker glinting at her like a verbal taunt.

And fuck, if she doesn't want that fucking touchdown_ so_ fucking bad.

"Gotcha!"

Ellie nearly loses her footing at the contact. She takes a few extra steps to keep from falling.

"The_ fuck_."

Roni laughs. "Sorry, Elle. When I saw you barrel past Mike, I knew what was going to happen."

Ellie reigns in the urge to punch her. "God," she hisses, kicking at the ground. "I really need to be against someone else."

"Damn it, Ellie," Mike huffs at her. He comes up and pushes at her shoulder. "You're so fucking fast when you want to be."

"And _you're_ too fucking obvious."

He laughs like she's joking. "Obvious? You can't be ser - hey!"

She turns away from the two teammates, hearing Roni laugh when she doesn't answer Mike, and meets up with her group. She tosses the ball to Tommy.

"Nice going, Ellie. You gave us a lot more field than I expected."

She shrugs. "Now, what?"

The next few plays get them marginally further downfield, but their running game is halted too quick to be effective. Mike's being a pain in the ass, too. She can't seem to shake him, anymore. He hovers so close, he's nearly attached to her skin. He holds sometimes, and she compensates by shoving him, but everyone's too busy concentrating elsewhere, and Maria isn't out today to referee like she usually is. So Ellie keeps her frustrations to herself and Mike's stomach.

It's even more aggravating when she witnesses Joel give him a nod of approval. Mike grows ten times bigger with disgusting pride.

"Let's try a cross route," Bobby suggests after a rather disappointing play. "I think it might confuse Roni or Mike just long enough for one of us to do something."

Ellie likes the idea. "I think it could work. Tommy?"

Tommy smiles. "Why not? We've got nothin' to lose."

Ellie frowns. Tommy's attitude is a thousand times less determined than usual. It's been showing through in the plays, but she hasn't thought anything of it. Now, though, down and nearing the last plays of the game?

She glances to John and Drew, but they're mumbling their acquiescence. Bobby grins at Tommy's approval, and Anna is making a face at Houser across the field. Houser answers with a playful gesture, and Anna laughs as she agrees with Tommy.

Tommy makes brief eye contact with Ellie, and she can't help but say, "We've got the _game_ to lose. Don't you want to win?"

"Of course I do, Ellie," he says, chuckling. "But I've got a feelin' right in here." He curls his hand into a fist and places it against his stomach. "Now, I think the real question is, are you ready to get your touchdown?"

Ellie still can't place it, that look in his face, but she readily says, "Hell yes."

They break, and Ellie glares at Mike when he comes up to face her. He smirks, and she tightens her hands until her nails cut into her palm.

She side glances to Bobby, and he glances back before looking to Roni.

"What?" Mike says. "No taunts this time?"

Ellie debates it. Then she shrugs. "I'll taunt when I beat your sorry ass."

"Ooh," he says. "Scary."

Tommy huts the ball, and they're off. Ellie runs a few feet before taking a hard slant, and Bobby keeps it a tight cross. He runs by her so closely, she can just hear his confidence when Roni hesitates. Her hesitation breeds Mike's own, and there's enough space between each player that Tommy can throw to either Bobby or Ellie.

Ellie sees his arm pop forward before it does. It arcs up in a pretty spin, and she runs to meet it as it curves down overhead. Ellie stretches her arms and snatches it tightly against her chest, cradling it inside her right forearm. The ball burns against her ribs as she keeps running, and Joel is right where he always is, standing like a stalwart in front of his treasure.

She ignores the way her feet want to stop, how she wants to rock to the side in a wide circle, just like she always does. It's become one of those impulsive habits. She knows it won't work, but it's familiar. She wants to take it because _maybe_ this time it'll work, just because she believes in it enough.

She pummels on, and once Joel's close enough to grab her, she feints to the right, and she slips to his left.

She can't read his face very well. She's too busy to try. But she can read his feet, and she notices that second of hesitation right away. It's not the off-steps of Mike and Roni, and it doesn't match every other hesitation she's seen him produce before, whether it's a shot to take or a decision to make. It's deliberate, and it isn't out of coincidence.

She crosses into that beautiful lane, and she scores, but there is nothing gratifying in it. She drops the ball and turns on her heel. She heaves out her breath.

"The fuck, Joel!" she shouts, marching up to him. She sees the small smile he had start to wane. "You did that on purpose! You totally fucking did, don't start lying."

He opens his mouth, then shuts it. "Ellie, come on now, you got that score fair and square."

"Because you let me."

Joel sighs, rubbing at his forehead. Tommy jogs up, as well as the rest of the team. He seems to notice the look on Ellie's face, but he doesn't say anything as Bobby comes up and squeezes her.

"Great job, Elle. You smoked him."

Rob grins and musses her hair while she's momentarily stuck.

She elbows out of Bobby's grasp. "Yeah. Right."

Roni and Mike are close behind, Roni congratulating them on the play, while Mike takes his time finding a balance between begrudging acceptance and complete disregard of their four point win. He's always a sore loser when Ellie does things better than him, but she knows she's be the same way, so she lets him.

She's mostly distracted by Tommy and Joel. She slips outside of the circle until she can hear them better.

"...she's a quick one, ain't she?" Tommy says.

"I've been hard on her. She deserved that one. Hell, she's been complainin' my ear off about it for a month."

"You were always too damn soft for your own good. She already knows what you did," Tommy laughs. Then he turns somber, and he claps his hand on Joel's shoulder. He shakes him a little. "Happy birthday, brother."

She can't make out much of Joel's face, but his tone is like a warning.

"Tommy..."

"Don't give me that, Joel. You're fifty-two today, according to my calendar."

Joel sighs. "I guess I really am old, aren't I?"

"Healthy, too. So come on. Let's go eat some dinner. I can't promise I won't make your toast a big deal, but..."

Joel pushes him, and Tommy laughs. And when Joel turns around enough to see her, Ellie can't make herself do anything except stare.

Joel seems to realize. "Ellie..."

"Why didn't you say anything?"

"Because it ain't important, kiddo."

"That's bullshit, and you know it."

"It's just a day like any other," he says. He impedes her stubbornness with a fatigued grimace.

"You let me win on your...on your birthday. That is so...lame. And stupid. That's the complete opposite of what's supposed to happen!"

Joel sighs again. "Ellie, don't be ridiculous about this..."

"You're the one who's being ridiculous."

"Okay, I'm ridiculous."

Ellie groans. "There you go again, letting me win. Geez, what is wrong with you?" She throws up her hands. "Just go eat your birthday dinner. And whatever else old people do on their birthdays. You realize you let Tommy win, too, right?"

He looks at her for a while, and then he shakes his head at her. "Alright. A seat'll be waiting for you at the table." He glances at the rest of the teenagers, and Roni, who have all decided to watch them. "Good game, kids. You could've done better."

The rest of the adults leave with them, but not before most of them rub Ellie's head and smile at her and tell her good game. She waves them off and rolls her eyes.

She turns to Bobby, Rob, Roni, and Mike and says, "Can you believe that shit? Joel let us win. He's finally losing it."

Bobby and Roni share a look, Rob crosses his arms, and Mike squints at her. "C'mon, Ellie. Don't be dumb. He didn't let _us_ win."

She shifts on her feet, and she busts out with, "Ugh, you guys suck. I'm gonna go eat." Before anyone else can say something equally as frustrating.

She doesn't even have a present.

* * *

Dinner turns out to be different. Joel's never been outgoing, but he does talk. Tonight, he keeps to himself, even when Ellie takes her seat across from him. She checked at the house for any item with a resemblance to something Joel might need. She could find nothing he might want. Sarah's eyes followed her out of the doorway, but that gift was given months and months ago. There'd never be a better one.

So she resigns herself to his silence, and she can't find many things to talk about besides the football game, so she keeps her mouth shut. He didn't seem to enjoy her ragging on him for the win, anyway.

He glances at his watch. It's more often than the usual day. They're ponderous glances, long and thoughtful. They aren't the type to induce melancholy, anymore, which is what she's noticed before. It makes her wonder what he sees as he's transported away by cracked glass and broken time.

He catches her eye, after some moments. "You're quiet, tonight."

"So are you."

"I'm always quiet."

"Not always."

"Well, then, what do you want to talk about?"

He's gotten good at noticing when she wants to say something. It's become a problem. She blows out air from her mouth. "First, I just want to say that you could have warned me."

"Maybe I should have. But It's not something I keep up with. Tommy -"

"And don't ever let me win out of pity. You don't give out pity, and it's strange when you give it to me."

"Pity is strange?"

"You know what I mean."

He seems amused. "I didn't realize it bothered you."

"Of course it bothers me. We never get pity - I mean, I never get pity, and...yeah. I don't like it."

"Okay," Joel says, pausing a moment. "No more of that."

"And what do you want?"

"What do I want?"

"For your birthday," she says, nearly frustrated again. "Riley and I always got each other something, no matter how small."

"What do I want..." Joel begins, and for a second, Ellie thinks he's truly trying to think of something. "Well, first," he says. "I want you to quit asking."

"Joel. Come _on_."

"And I want you to quit whinin' about never making a touchdown. You made one today -"

"It wasn't a real one."

"You crossed the line. That's as real as it gets."

"But you - "

"You're the one who asked, Ellie."

She huffs, looking down at her emptying plate. "Fine. But only because it's your birthday. Tomorrow, it goes back to normal."

"Then let my ears have peace for a night, at least."

He finishes his meal, and he retires from the table. Ellie tries to make him stay for the movie, but he claims to want some sleep.

Ellie frowns as she watches him go. She should've waited to give him the Walkman. That would have been a pretty good gift.

Ellie slides down the table to be across from Maria and Tommy. Tommy looks up at her.

"Hey, Ellie. You leavin' us, too?"

"No way," she says. "It's early." She pauses. "You didn't make a toast for Joel."

He laughs. "I was just giving him a hard time. He hates attention."

"Yeah," she says. "He does. We should have one next year."

"I completely agree, Ellie," Maria says. "And good job on your game. I heard you won it."

Ellie holds back an eye roll. "Sort of," she relents. "Did you guys get anything for him?"

"I made sure he got an extra helping," Maria says. "There aren't many ingredients for a cake around here."

_Cake?_ Ellie thinks. But it's probably one of those old world ghosts.

"I said some nice things to him," Tommy says lightly. "Don't worry too much about it, Ellie. This kind of normalcy is hard to get used to, and Joel hasn't celebrated a birthday in a long time. If you start giving him more things, he'll get spoiled. And trust me when I say no one wants a spoiled Joel."

He isn't being half serious, but Ellie gives him a bemused look. "I haven't given him much. I just..."

"Sure you have," he continues, and his smile becomes a little meaningful. "You've been giving him a fresh start. A new beginning, and a better one than I could have given him alone."

"A new beginning," Ellie says.

"Right now," Tommy says. "That's the best gift anyone could give him."

Ellie glances down at the table separating them.

"So, like I said. Don't worry your pretty head about it, kiddo. It'll always mean the world to him, even if he never speaks a word about it."

Ellie nods quickly. "Okay. Yeah. Thanks, Tommy." She stands up. "I'm gonna head out. I'll see you tomorrow."

He watches after her, and she can tell he's wondering, but he doesn't ask her what she's thinking. "Alright, Ellie. See you tomorrow."

* * *

Ellie finds Joel sitting on his mattress. Usually she finds him taking his guns apart and putting them back together, or he'll be playing on the guitar, messing with chords along the strings. This time, he's looking at his damn watch, again, and she barely stops herself from asking about it. She won't ask because it's his birthday, and because when he handles it, it's like how she handles her mother's letter.

"Hey, Joel."

He looks up at her. He hadn't heard her, and that's not like him. "You not staying out with your friends, tonight?"

She shrugs. "I dunno yet. Maybe." She comes over to the mattress, but he's sitting on the edge of the middle. "Scoot," she says.

His face quirks at her, but he does as she commands. She takes her seat beside him, her posture sloppy as she leans her forearms on her thighs.

"You wanna know what I think?"

"Hm?"

She looks at him, then looks around the room. "I like what we have here," she says softly. "This house and Jackson. The people. And...all of it."

Joel glances over her. After a quiet minute, he lifts his left hand and begins to unravel the watch from his wrist.

"Yeah," he says, and he places the broken watch on the floor, just an inch from the mattress. He rubs at the skin that's been hidden by the strap. It could have been under there for years and years. "I like what we have, too, Ellie."

She stares at the bright line of skin she believed to be dead by that watch. It doesn't match the rest of him, but it's not supposed to.

He smiles at her, and he musses her hair briefly. It's different than when other people do it. Something gets caught inside her throat.

"Go on, now," he says. "This fifty-two year old needs some sleep."

"Fifty-two isn't _that_ old."

"It's old enough," he says, and he nudges her off the mattress.

"I don't think so." She smiles as she hops up and leaves him. "Goodnight, Joel."

"Goodnight, baby girl."


End file.
